I don’t always feel lost, just when I’m awake

I want to find Jesus
in an oilstain.

I want to awake from another dream
of green-grassed hill country
and have the statue on Logan Boulevard tell me:
your friends are waiting
and your brother is here,
instead of saying
exactly what I know,
that God is just marble,
that he wilts like I do
and can’t stand up to the wind.

I want to be baptized in a fire hydrant
and tell the homeless preacher he’s wrong
when he tells me,
there is no God in city limits
or any place, for that matter,
where lots of people like us gather.
God wants to be left alone,
just like you.